Rain
by Epiphany Under Moonlight
Summary: This is a long P.O.V. from Yugi. He's talking about his life, friends, family, and power. How it feels to be caught in the rain.
1. Rain

Hi!!!!!!!!!! I'm finally back after...what two-three weeks? Well, no matter for I am back and best of all I have a new story. This is my new story, my love child. It's told from Yugi's P.O.V., and he's talking about almost everything. His life in general, his family, for all you that have read my other fics you know who that is, for all you that haven't you'll find out, very little about his friends and Granpa unfortunately. Next chapter though I promise. This story actually came to me while I was eating lunch. I was at John's Hopkins, my fifteen year old butt was in their cafeteria munching on fries and halfway through my sunny break it started raining, really cool rain. The kind that ruins some things but is really neat when you're inside. And I liked that, it set me up in a good mood, so I was thinking about my stories and...you know when you just have to write? I just had to. I went home and finished up on my idea and of course when I was done I was thinking, "What the h-?", and I swear I almost deleted it right then and there but I kept it, made some changes, and went to bed, the next day I was really, really inspired when I read it over and I kept going with it. Insert a couple of hours with no food or sleep, but...I'm really pleased. I like this. And the really cool thing is that I didn't expect it to be so long so I was just going to combine three ideas into one story. When I was done with this though, I realized there would be no way. So I'm taking a mucho short break, (wait, doesn't mucho mean big in Spanish, aiya!), and then I'm working on the next two chapters. Which are already planned out by the way, well forgive my rambling.   
  
Read and enjoy.   
  
It's raining today.  
  
Bluish-clear wet, wet, water falling, and falling, and falling, and falling together in one long cold stream from the heavens.  
  
Rain.  
  
Like an eternal shower from the big sky above, it pitter-patters on the old gray cement below and slides from one corner of Domino to the other, giving it a good wash.  
  
Rain.  
  
When I woke up this morning though, the sun was shining.   
  
It was shining, and bright, and warm, and promising, but halfway through breakfast the sun disappeared.  
  
It grew colder, and I heard the sounds of the sky crying.  
  
Rain.  
  
And I left the table, and went to the window, and peeked my head through the curtains...  
  
and there it was.  
  
Rain.  
  
Quiet and sullen, thoughtful and thoughtless.  
  
And I leaned forward until my head rested upon the glass, and my fingers tapped a beat less rhythm, and I looked.  
  
Rain.  
  
When I was younger, I used to sing that song. "Rain, rain, go away."  
  
When I was young, and small, and still didn't know about...a lot of things.  
  
But not anymore.   
  
Cause when it's raining like this, there's something...  
  
Something in the air...  
  
Something so...different and unexplainable.  
  
And I turned around and looked at her, and she was staring out of one of the other glasses.  
  
Fingers resting on the wooden frame, eyes transfixed, lips ever so slightly parted.  
  
As soft, and quiet, and small as the weather outside.  
  
My mother.  
  
My mommy.  
  
My world.  
  
Rain.  
  
And that's it, isn't it?  
  
Yami reminds me of thunder.  
  
And I remind me of the sun.  
  
But she...  
  
She's the rain.  
  
The quiet, peaceful kind that you can walk through without an umbrella.  
  
The moody blue and green kind that lasts all day long and forces you to think about things you willingly wouldn't have bothered to.  
  
The kind of rain that we never seemed to get a lot of out here...until she came back.  
  
Rain.  
  
So I walked over and I stood next to her, and almost instantly she changed.  
  
She become more guarded and less open than she was a second ago, more like stone and steel and ice than like rain.  
  
More like a statue than a living being.  
  
She doesn't trust me.  
  
That hurts.  
  
She doesn't like it when I touch her.  
  
That hurts.  
  
...  
  
But there's more...  
  
She's...afraid...of me.  
  
And that hurts and hurts and scares me and...  
  
She's _afraid_ of me.  
  
Me.  
  
No one's ever, I mean I've never.  
  
I don't think anyone's ever looked at me, the way she looks at me.  
  
Like I'm some sort of cruel god and in the wave of my hand I could order her to eternal misery.  
  
I couldn't.  
  
Not now.  
  
But I did.  
  
Back then.  
  
And that's why she looks at me like this. Feels this way about me.  
  
...  
  
But never again!  
  
Ever!  
  
If there's any two people worthy of me risking my life, and light, and love...it's them.  
  
And only them.  
  
Rain.  
  
If I had the chance, I'd take it all back, back all the way to Egypt.  
  
I'd have us living in happier days, and things would be perfect, and she'd be happy again, and the war of the Duel Monsters would never have happened.  
  
No bad ever would have happened.  
  
But I'm not that powerful.  
  
Not that strong.  
  
And even if I could...  
  
It wouldn't be fair.  
  
Not to anyone, I think.  
  
So...she doesn't really like me, and I'd really, really, like her to like me.  
  
I'd give her anything and everything if she just did.  
  
So were at odds.  
  
Almost all the time.  
  
  
  
But...she didn't move away from me just then.  
  
Didn't put anymore space between us than what was already there.  
  
I thank her for that.  
  
And I looked, and looked, and I wasn't sure what I was looking for, or whether I had already found it, but I looked, and it was nice.  
  
Very.  
  
So with me giving her a kiss on the cheek, and a smile when she looked at me with her eyes, a hug shared with Yami, and a solemn wave to my suddenly solemn Granpa I rushed outside to begin my walk to school.  
  
Rain.  
  
Dousing the quiet city in nature's tears and sending everyone inside.  
  
Inside to their office buildings, inside to their schools, inside to their homes.  
  
Inside and away.  
  
Away from the cold, and the wet, and the rain.  
  
Running as fast as they can as if it's not really rain, but acid, and if they stay out any longer their skin will melt right off their bones.  
  
Silly.  
  
It's just rain.  
  
Just a little water and what's water?  
  
What are tears?  
  
What is sorrow?  
  
How important is the mourning of your loss? More important than the fevered recovery?  
  
How important is a little bit of rain in the course of a life?  
  
...  
  
And when did I get so deep?  
  
...Silly.  
  
  
  
Rain.  
  
And all day long, I couldn't concentrate or stop staring out a window if there was one near me, and if there wasn't, all I could do was think.  
  
And I got yelled at, and threatened with detention, and told that I was very bright but would never amount to anything if I kept going like this.  
  
And I didn't care, cause they didn't know, and even if they did, they wouldn't understand.  
  
And when the day was over I walked outside almost by myself.  
  
Joey and Tristan had detention. Big surprise, there.  
  
Ryou hadn't even come to school today. Wonder why?  
  
And everyone else, seemed to have other things to do, other places to be...except Anzu.  
  
Rain.   
  
And we both stood under the outer roof of the school, her with her books, her brains, her job, a promising future, and...an umbrella.  
  
And me, with the fate of the world on my shoulders, and the impossible and unthinkable no farther away than Mommy and Daddy, and enough talent, recognition, and prize money to last till eternity, and...no umbrella.  
  
And we both stood there staring out, watching the drops drop and talking.  
  
She had to rush over to her job at "Burger Bin", and then go to ballet practice, apparently cheerleading had been cancelled because of the rain, and then do homework and studying for the big test tomorrow, and she was so tired.  
  
And I just wanted to get home, do some of the school stuff, as little as possible, and then hit the sheets, and I almost said it.  
  
Almost let what I really felt slip from me.  
  
"Preferably the ones with my Mommy in them".  
  
I almost told Anzu, Anzu of all people...  
  
But I didn't, but if I had I can just...she would have lost that smile almost instantly, her face becoming pale and sickly looking, there would be some different levels of disgust and shock and hurt and sadness written in her eyes, and her mouth would open and close, her lips thoughtlessly forming an O of surprise.  
  
And...so much more.  
  
But I didn't.  
  
Not even Anzu could understand my life, not even she could sympathize with the way my world's been turning lately, and the fact that I don't want it to stop.  
  
The fact that would scare her the most.  
  
So I didn't.  
  
And she smiled and looked at me and said, "I'll walk you home Yugi. Since you forgot to bring an umbrella.", and I thought about it.  
  
If she walked me home, we'd talk, we'd go there directly, with the shortest route possible, I'd be dry, and then I'd be home.  
  
If I went, I'd be by myself, I'd be able to walk as slow as I wanted or take whichever route I pleased, I'd be wet, and then I'd be home.  
  
The sensible choice would be Anzu.  
  
But...  
  
You can understand why I declined.  
  
And she insisted.  
  
And I said no, and then I ran out as fast as I could away from her, into the cold, and the wet, and the rain, and I yelled, "Goodbye. I'll see you tomorrow!" and I turned away, but not before I saw her shake her head and smile at me.  
  
She thinks I'm the most carefree person she knows.  
  
She's wrong.  
  
Rain.  
  
And I was alone with only the occasional person rushing past me, as I slowly walked and watched the rain.  
  
Dripping, and dropping, and dropping tiny diamonds of liquid all over.  
  
Drip, drop, drop.  
  
Until they become longer, wet slivers, silver threads connecting the heavens to earth.  
  
Rain.  
  
A soft, little, tuneless song.  
  
A pretty, little, blue picture.  
  
Something that stays on my mind until the showers end.  
  
Until the sky clears up, and the sun returns, and the world is bright again.  
  
Till the world is what I know it to be.  
  
But for now, it's still raining.  
  
And I didn't even bring an umbrella.  
  
To shield me from something I'm not sure I want to be shielded from.  
  
  
  
Rain.  
  
Hiding everything, and making everything a shimmer of color, and a hint of form  
  
.  
  
Visible  
  
and invisible.   
  
Alive   
  
and inanimate.  
  
Pretty and pretty...  
  
and pretty.  
  
Rain.  
  
So that tree leaves dancing as raindrops keep falling on their heads, are really nothing more than fluttering emeralds from a distance.  
  
Green, and shiny, and waving to the drenched passerby as though they were alive.  
  
And even up close it doesn't seem real, too much like something from a fairy book.  
  
Too much like something from my childhood.  
  
Something I was supposed to forget.  
  
Supposed to throw away as time passed.  
  
But I didn't.  
  
I couldn't.  
  
But they all think I did.  
  
So it almost, really doesn't matter.  
  
Rain.  
  
And all the playground equipment is wet, and slippery, and tempting.   
  
...  
  
And completely empty and bare, untouched by little hands and fingers because of the surprising, sudden shower.  
  
And even if I am too old to be playing in the jungle gym, or swinging on the swings, or sliding on the slide.  
  
Especially...sliding on the slide.  
  
Sometimes...  
  
Sometimes I can't resist.  
  
Rain.  
  
Especially since it's empty, and quiet, and there's no one there to tell me I'm too old.  
  
So on muddy feet I tread, and I climb up the steel stairs, and at the top it feels like I can see all the world but really it's more like half of the playground.  
  
And I drop...  
  
And the worlds speeding past me in a colorful, wet blur, and my hair dances past, and it almost feels like I'm flying.  
  
Eyes closed mouth open, arms wide out, feet apart.  
  
Giddy laughter resounding.  
  
Daydreams, hopes, fantasies so perfect it seems nightmarish.  
  
The world at my feet, eternity at my fingertips, and Gia and Yami at my side.  
  
Perfection.  
  
Rain.  
  
And I'm at the bottom and just a little bit dizzy and out of breath, and that was wonderful.  
  
I feel free...happy.  
  
I stand up and smile, and the mud on my bottom slides off under the rains persistence, and I pick up my book bag, and I decide to walk through this fairy tale place.  
  
This playground.  
  
Rain.  
  
And there's a giant blue king penguin standing right in the sand-filled center.  
  
And maybe I never noticed it before but here in the rain he seems so lifelike and powerful.  
  
So tough and strong that it seems impossible that anyone would believe him to just be a statue.  
  
  
  
And as I pass him by and see his huge golden crown, I have to stop the urge to bow and wave.  
  
Though as I walk past, I stop.  
  
I turn around and walk back and think.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
I do.  
  
Rain.  
  
Bowing quickly, and staring at that huge sea blue stomach before almost unwillingly my eyes travel upwards and I'm looking into commanding blue orbs that glisten with life's light over the golden beak.  
  
Rain.  
  
And I walk past quickly feeling...different.  
  
And something fills me, something sweet and innocent and forgotten, and I start to play tag even though I'm all by myself.  
  
Well...  
  
Not all by myself.  
  
There's My Dad.  
  
My Yami.  
  
My homicidal psychopath.  
  
Sitting in my mind, contented, enjoying my happiness, or maybe if I plead enough in that special voice, or if he starts to remember that he never got a chance to do any of these things before, he'll join me.  
  
And our screams are loud and joyous, and if the neighbors hear, they'll smile and not bother to look because they'll think its a little child, or little children.  
  
Playing in the rain as they do in the sun, completely oblivious to the fact that soon it'll be time for them to go home.  
  
And in a sense it is.  
  
Two wild children, one alive, one not since the pyramids were young, enjoying an afternoon shower, themselves, and each other before it's time to tame themselves again and go back home.  
  
Enjoying life, even if we are supposedly too old to be doing so.  
  
Rain.  
  
And I do cart-wheels, and imperfect flips, and crazy jumping jacks, and he's laughing so hard that he's crying.  
  
Or is that the rain?  
  
Ruby red eyes closed, rose lips parted and pearly white canines showing as he throws his wild head back and laughs, and laughs, and laughs like no one ever imagined he could.  
  
But I know better.  
  
And we're wet, absolutely soaked down to the bone with mud covering the majority of our clothes, and body, and textbooks, and...  
  
My homework.  
  
Darn.  
  
And he finally catches his breath and peers into my book bag and he gives me a sheepish smile as I frown at the offending papers.  
  
But I shake it off.  
  
Cause its okay.  
  
It's okay because I'm alive.  
  
I'm alive and happy and wet and besides...most of it is going to fade by the time I get home.  
  
I hope.  
  
Cause it is still raining.  
  
And he smiles at me and there's a warm rumble in his chest as a forgotten chuckle emerges, and with a wet kiss on my temple, and a strong grasp of my shoulder, he disappears back into my mind, and I'm alone again.  
  
Rain.  
  
But I'm not alone, never alone, he's always there.  
  
In my heart, soul, and mind.  
  
He'd never leave me alone.  
  
Not even for an instant.  
  
He cherishes me too much.  
  
And the feeling is returned completely.  
  
Rain.  
  
And it's not so bad.  
  
Life's good.  
  
It could be better, but it's good.  
  
And I really, really, hope this fades, cause the teachers are already on my back all the time because of all my daydreams and games, let alone my imperfect attendance when it comes to homework.  
  
And they're not daydreams either!  
  
Well...  
  
Most of them aren't.  
  
Most of them is me listening to Yami as he goes on about everything from Egypt, to Anzu, and he makes the school day a lot less boring than it usually would be.  
  
Makes my life a lot less boring than it usually would be.  
  
After all, they wouldn't know what it's like to have to share one mind with two different set of thoughts forever coinciding or interrupting the other.  
  
And the rest...  
  
Well...  
  
I can't help the rest.  
  
After all.  
  
I am still young.  
  
Rain.  
  
And all those old silly songs that I thought I'd forgotten come back and at first I'm just humming them but then without really realizing it, I burst into full verse.  
  
Ignoring the looks of people as they glance at me, some frowning, others smiling, most simply thinking I'm an odd little boy.  
  
And maybe I am.  
  
But they wouldn't understand.  
  
Cause "The wheels on the bus go round and round", and "Boom-boom ain't it great to be crazy".  
  
Oh and "You can't get to heaven in roller skates".  
  
Why?  
  
Just cause you can't.  
  
Happy.   
  
  
  
Cause puddles are forming on the ground.  
  
Little pools that reflect everything that passes them by, and are absolutely perfect for jumping in, and splashing, and getting myself and anyone dumb enough to come near the muddy kid with no umbrella, absolutely soaked.  
  
But best of all.  
  
Not caring.  
  
Cause I love every moment of this sweet abandonment, of standing in the rain like I don't know better, and if anyone I know ever saw me, I'd be blushing for weeks, but all at the same time...  
  
I wouldn't care.  
  
Happy.  
  
Because I only get so many of those moments lately and they're all I have left before my conscience catches up and reminds me of who I am.   
  
Where I am.  
  
Why I'm doing what I'm doing.  
  
And why I'm not what I should.  
  
Cold.  
  
And soon I'm standing next to the Game Shop door, and this little adventure is over for today, and I cast one last look at the world outside before plunging into the place I call my home.  
  
And the first person I see is Granpa, and he glances up from his newspaper and his violet eyes widen when he sees me, his newspaper goes to rest on his desk and his mouth opens but he changes his mind and he says nothing.  
  
I wonder why?  
  
I give him a big smile and go past him to the hallway behind the shop.  
  
And as I lean against the wall and take deep breaths I realize something.  
  
I can't feel ANYTHING.  
  
I'm shivering, and smiling, and my clothes are stuck to my body, and my shoes weigh a ton, and my homework is a certified goner, and my teeth are chattering making it hard to hold onto that smile, and I'm sooo cold.  
  
Cold.  
  
...But never more alive.  
  
Cold.  
  
My lips look a little blue, and I feel like skipping around the house, and all at the same time I feel like collapsing, and I'm sooo sleepy, and all I want is cocoa, and warm pajamas, and a bed, and...my mommy and Yami.  
  
Is that so much to ask?  
  
Cold.  
  
And I take a hot shower, and when I drink my choco-mars, chocolate with marshmallows for all who don't know, me and Yami get identical chocolate-milk mustaches, and they look as ridiculous on him as they do on me, and I even got a robe, and the heat's been turned up and...she smiled.  
  
Brief, and fleeting, and when she thought I wasn't looking, but she did.  
  
Pretty.  
  
Warm.  
  
So soon I'm tender, and small, and happy under the covers and Yami's right next to me, and Mommy, Gia, well maybe if I called her and asked nicely she'd curl up next to me, next to us, and smile like that again, and then I could honestly die content, and safe, and light in darkness's arm's.  
  
Or at least that's my greatest wish.  
  
Warm.  
  
Cause no one understands, and no one has to understand, but I'm happy.   
  
Like I've never been.  
  
Like I've always wanted to be.  
  
But...like I am.  
  
Now.  
  
Warm.  
  
I put on the sky blue pajamas with the yellow stars on them and Yami absolutely refuses to wear pajamas, and he snorted when I offered him the green ones with the Feral Imp on them.  
  
And he gracefully flopped onto the bed, and midnight lashes brushed milky skin, and with a contented sigh and purr he fell asleep instantly and I almost joined him except...  
  
I wanted more.  
  
I wanted the only other person that I've ever wanted like the other half of my soul.  
  
And I called her, and in a minute she had opened my door and was looking at me as I stood by the small bed, and she's the only person I still feel shy around.  
  
The only person that makes me feel like...I don't know.  
  
Like I'm still a nobody.  
  
But I asked, I folded my hands, and looked down at my feet, and I blushed, and blushed, and blushed, and when I looked up she was looking at me, and her eyes were wide and bright and it seemed like she was going to cry.  
  
And the world was completely off balance, and it was scary the way everything felt so wrong and shadowed, and I bit my lip because no matter how much I wanted her, I didn't want it so much that she'd cry...anymore than I had already made her do, and I quickly said it was okay and...she wouldn't look at me.  
  
She left and she wouldn't even... and it hurt, and I felt like crying, and wailing, and throwing a tantrum, and screaming, and just... fighting till she had to come back.  
  
Till she _had_ to make sure I was all right!  
  
And she would.   
  
Wouldn't she?  
  
I wanted to do it all, but turning around and looking down at him, I had to stop myself.  
  
Cause Yami would feel it too, he would feel it and wake up, and want to know what was wrong, what had happened, and comfort me as only he could.  
  
I wanted it, of course. But...  
  
He was already with me all the time; he already did way too much.  
  
I couldn't ask for anymore than what he was already offering.  
  
Himself.  
  
So I fell into his arms, and I willed myself to sleep, and I wondered.  
  
About a lot of things.  
  
But mostly about her.  
  
Mostly about what had happened, how much unforgettable damage had been done, and how unfair it was that I didn't know, that someone didn't tell me, that I didn't...just know...  
  
That she was...my everything.  
  
And just when the world almost faded away, just when the hurt seemed almost gone, I felt light fingertips gracing over my face and when I slowly opened my eyes she was there, staring at me uncertainly with her blue and green eyes, and the fingers that had been caressing my cheek moved back to behind her, and there was something there.  
  
Something in her.  
  
And this time, this time I didn't want to say or do anything wrong, anything to push her away from me again.  
  
Ever.  
  
This time I didn't want to ruin it.  
  
So when she sat down on the bed, her back to me for seconds upon seconds and finally turned and looked at me, I looked back trying to keep myself as open as possible, feeling so much younger, much more vulnerable than I had in such a long time, and she...  
  
Must have seen something there that convinced her, cause she-  
  
Laid down next to me, flesh to flesh, back to front, her heart to mine, and almost before I knew what I was doing I had wrapped my arms around her and placed my head on her collarbone and whispered something...  
  
Something so strong, and hopeless, and passionate.  
  
Something that was young and shy, tainted with tears, and shadows, and broken promises and devotions, but so important.  
  
Something that's not meant for your ears.  
  
And she closed her eyes and fell asleep with me there.  
  
She who hated my touch had willingly laid herself in my arms, and I who found myself forever...trying to...well.  
  
Pull her to me couldn't have been more pleased, or I would have been if I didn't feel like this wasn't, couldn't be real.  
  
She who didn't trust me, had left herself as vulnerable as any person could be, asleep in the arms of the two who had condemned her.  
  
And I wanted that trust as much as I needed her touch.  
  
She, who was afraid of me, gave me herself without care.  
  
And I wanted her, yes.  
  
I missed her, but I didn't want...  
  
Oh, it doesn't even make complete sense to me, how could I ever hope to explain it to someone else.  
  
But I wanted her trust, and loyalty, and devotion.  
  
I wanted her.  
  
The old her.  
  
The new her.  
  
All of her.  
  
She had come to me when I let her go.  
  
What did that mean? Did it mean anything?  
  
Maybe, maybe not.  
  
I didn't understand her. Not one bit.  
  
But I did love her.  
  
And I wanted her love in return.  
  
Is that so much to ask?  
  
Warm.  
  
And Yami dozed, and she rested in deep slumber, but for untold minutes I refused to sleep.  
  
Because I was so sure that when I woke up, it would either all be dream, or she wouldn't be there, like so many times before.  
  
She's never there when I wake up.   
  
Ever.  
  
I guess that's how she's punishing me.  
  
She makes sure I don't have the pleasure of waking up and having her in my arms, warm and asleep.  
  
That for most of the morning I'm second guessing myself on whether this is right, or wrong, or fair, or what?  
  
That whatever was soothed in me, for whatever little time it was soothed, that it erupts again and I need her, like air and water and earth, and she knows and she punishes me.  
  
But I know that's not true.  
  
She's not like that.  
  
Not at all.  
  
Warm.  
  
Because she actually fell asleep in my arms, and I can feel the bubbling of breath in her body, and she's...ah...  
  
She's at peace.  
  
Her head is turned towards me, and her eyes are closed, her lips are just slightly parted for air to pass through, and her chest is rising and falling easily, and she looks safe.  
  
Warm.  
  
Cause that's all I've ever wanted, and needed, and I'm starting to get it, and I'm so very glad that she's safe.  
  
Safe and here where we can take care of her.  
  
Not alone in her dark house with those awful memories.  
  
Or on that island, in her dead husband's mansion with even more awful memories.  
  
Sad.  
  
Cause she hasn't been safe for so long.  
  
And that's partly my fault, and I know I'm completely to blame for the way she is now, but...I can't help it.  
  
I can't help it, and I don't like it, and she's my Mommy.  
  
And I couldn't bear the thought of her, being by herself, when she's like this, could you?  
  
Bear the thought of someone you love being all by themselves when they're at their very weakest.  
  
Maybe you can, but I couldn't.  
  
Just like I couldn't bear the thought of me having to watch her be by herself, I can't stand being by myself, when she's so sick and alone.   
  
Sad.  
  
It's horribly wrong.  
  
And so unfair.  
  
And I only pray again and again that she doesn't hate me for it, but...she has to stay.   
  
Cause I need her.   
  
Cause Yami needs her.   
  
Because she needs no one.  
  
And that's not fair at all.  
  
Sad.  
  
Cause it doesn't always work out, and sometimes, it seems to be doing more harm than good, but...she's not alone all the time, and she's not so cold anymore, and sometimes, sometimes...she smiles.   
  
And then the sun shines a little brighter and everything gets a little warmer.  
  
  
  
Hope.  
  
Cause Yami swore that no one would ever hurt me or her again, and she seems to be coming back, and it's probably wrong to think this way but everyone's starting to leave me alone.  
  
And that's a good thing.  
  
I like that.  
  
I wish they'd either accept this, or go away forever.  
  
I wish I could see the looks of surprise on their faces if they knew.  
  
Hope.  
  
Cause for once Yami isn't the great and powerful pharaoh with sharp eyes and an unpredictable temper, he's an eighteen year old boy who looks like a little kid when he sleeps, and who whispers in his slumber.   
  
But it's not much to get excited about.  
  
Cause even in his sleep he's still in control, his lips may move but no sound comes out, no words pass and no secrets ever slip.  
  
And the one time I tried, lightly leaning over him with my ear to his lips, the only thing that happened was he woke up without me noticing him and he said quite calmly, "Aibou, what are you doing?".  
  
And I laughed it off, and blushed, and decided right then and there never to try that again.  
  
And he glanced at me with a look of absolute confusion and concern, before he went back to sleep.  
  
Hope.  
  
Cause I think he's happy or I hope so. And if he's not then I'm sorry.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because I know how sad he was.  
  
How sad he still is.   
  
I was the one who forced him into this, and maybe if not for me he never would have gotten involved and did what he did.  
  
Never have hurt his lover.  
  
His wife.  
  
My mother.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because once, a long time ago, they were married, and lived together, and loved each other, and they had me.  
  
But that was once, a long time ago, and since then...  
  
So many horrible things have happened, and there's a lot that I don't understand, and so much that I know I can never ask, and it's almost too much to bear at times.  
  
But no matter how bad it hurts for me, I know it hurts three times worse for him, and even if he didn't care at first.  
  
Something so wrong happened, and we were forced out of our blindness.  
  
And what we saw...it still sends cold shivers down my back, still makes me feel like crying.  
  
And when he did start to...feel for her again, it must have been hell to see her in the arms of someone else.  
  
Making love to someone else.  
  
Thinking of bearing someone else's child.  
  
It must have been so awful...what I did to him.  
  
But he forgave me, without even thinking it over for a second.  
  
He forgave me for the worst sin I've ever committed.  
  
He forgave me, when I couldn't even forgive myself.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because I hate it, when I think how she lived for that year.  
  
She was forced to marry someone she didn't love, and sleep with him, and live with him, and then have to think of bearing another child when she already had one that hated her.  
  
Me.  
  
But I didn't though!  
  
I mean I did.  
  
I thought I did, I really did but...  
  
I was confused...and naive and blind and stupid.  
  
And...  
  
No.  
  
It doesn't matter.  
  
Cause it's one of those things that an "I'm sorry" can't fix.  
  
And forgiveness won't make go away.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because she grew so thin, and silent, and still, and when I first saw her, I almost didn't recognize her, and...I didn't care.  
  
And she knew, and it hurt her.  
  
The way that it's hurting me now.  
  
And it was only later when I started thinking about it that I realized.  
  
How much she must have hurt for her to...change so, how much it must have taken for her to shatter.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because she was treated as a doll, and she had to stay in his arms at night, and in his thoughts during the day, and his and his alone all the time.  
  
And he...hit her.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because she had to wear a ring, and swear to a devotion she didn't feel, and manage in a world so isolated, and live, if you can call it that.  
  
But I can't.  
  
Not all by yourself on an island, with no friends, or family members, or anyone ever to turn to.  
  
That's not living.  
  
That's surviving, and people shouldn't be forced to do that.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because I truly hope he rests in peace.  
  
And I know he truly loved her.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
Because I know he was too.  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
Because I know it killed her when he died, even if she didn't love him.  
  
But I'm thankful too.  
  
Thank you.  
  
Because no matter what.  
  
No matter what I think or feel, it doesn't matter.  
  
Because when we hurt, when we did what we did.  
  
When she had no one.  
  
He was the one who took care of her.  
  
He was the one that took her in and clothed her, and fed her, and sheltered her.  
  
And loved her, and married her, and...made love to her.  
  
I know millions of years passed since they were married, and Yami had once said that the marriage meant...nothing, so she did nothing wrong but...  
  
Every time I think of John and her together and alone on his island, in their own private world, I feel...sick.  
  
There's a reason for it I know, one that I can't say, not yet, but I'm so glad that she had to come back here, so glad that she accepted the invitation to stay with me, so glad that Yami is...  
  
He...  
  
Misses her.  
  
Terribly so.  
  
And he is to her perhaps, one of the very last people she wanted to see for the rest of her life.  
  
He's no longer her husband, they're no longer lovers or even friends, they're...  
  
Associates, but I know he wishes for them to be what they were.  
  
But they can't be.  
  
Not with her still wearing her wedding ring, and by all law and rights still John's wife, the inheritor to all his accounts and estates.  
  
And maybe...maybe...maybe...carrying his child.  
  
God I hope not.  
  
I hate John for that.  
  
But I owe John too much to hate him; I don't know how I'm going to make it up to him now though.  
  
And if not for him...then maybe...  
  
Maybe she would have...  
  
No.  
  
I don't want think about it.  
  
No, no.  
  
It's bad enough already.  
  
I already have so much to...  
  
I can't think about it.  
  
No, please.  
  
Every time I do I end up looking for her, and when I find her I think, "How close. How close was she? If not for him, would she have...killed herself? How much did it hurt her? It must have hurt so tremendously for her to change so completely. It would have killed me if it had happened to me. How could I do that to her? To anyone? Why did I? I don't know. I'm sorry."  
  
And if she even so much as shifts her eyes towards me, even for the barest of a second I burst into tears and rush into her arms.  
  
My arms encircling underneath her own as I pull her nearer, my body so close that I can feel the small movements of her breathing, my face buried in the area just between her heart and breast, my tears running down her like raindrops,  
  
And I confuse her.  
  
With me teary and wild, and smiling and giving, or shy and affectionate, or quiet and hurting all throughout the day, I know I confuse her.  
  
And she doesn't push me away.  
  
She never pushes anyone away.  
  
She pulls back sometimes.  
  
Steps away from my grasp and stares at me blankly from a distance, but she never ever pushes.  
  
And that thought sends me even deeper into my tears.  
  
And she can't push me away now, can she?  
  
No.  
  
Because I'm holding on far too tight, and I'm too emotional, and she...  
  
She'll let me stay here, this way, as still as death in my arms with her head looking at the ceiling, wondering what set me off this time.  
  
And finally, slowly but finally the tears will stop. They'll fade into little wet remembrances on my face and for a while after I'll still be sobbing.  
  
Sobs turning into uncontrollable hiccups, hiccups turning into small whimpers, whimpers turning into sad deep breaths.  
  
And when it's finally done, I pull away, but not enough for her, I pull away and keep one of my arms behind her back my fist bunching up the fabric there, the other hand I use to wipe away my tears and cover my mouth with a small fist as I cough gently.   
  
For a couple of minutes more we stay that way.  
  
Me not wanting to let go, but knowing that I have to, and her patiently waiting for me to let go.  
  
And I let go, my eyes locked on the floor, just to see if maybe...and she does.  
  
Steps back.  
  
And when I look at her, I can see the urge even deeper in her eyes, something in me is making her uncomfortable and she wants to step back even more, but she doesn't.  
  
I wonder why?  
  
And I love her.  
  
I pull what ever she has in her hands away, and gently pull her to a chair, and I ask her what she wants, and she never answers, so I just do whatever she was doing as best as I can, but never as good as her, and when I get the minute to glance up she's looking somewhere else and I feel infinitely sad and desperate to please.  
  
And that's the way it'll be for the rest of the day, me following her, and finding her, and doing as much as I can for her and hoping she finds some...comfort in my efforts.  
  
And she doesn't.  
  
Hate, or love, or sympathize, or anything.  
  
...And I think I know why she always steps back from me.  
  
What she's seen or what she remembers.  
  
  
  
And I'm so, so, sorry.  
  
But...she was just barely hanging on, and was so close to that edge.  
  
All she wanted more than anything was to fall.  
  
To fall, and break, and shatter, and turn to dust, and disappear.   
  
She wanted that with all her everything.  
  
And I wouldn't let her.  
  
I couldn't let her.  
  
Sorry.  
  
And when I saw it in her eyes, that end, I got so scared, I couldn't think straight.  
  
And when I had the chance to make it all right, and truly repent, I didn't.  
  
I held onto her shoulders, and cried, and sobbed, and begged, and begged, and begged.  
  
And I wouldn't let go, couldn't let go.  
  
I didn't know how to.  
  
Hated to think that this person I had hurt for a year, this person that I had pushed, and pushed, and pushed.  
  
I hated to think that they would leave me now, now that the very thought of abandonment sent me into such fevered sorrow.  
  
Such a desperate longing.  
  
I almost died...cause I...  
  
Needed, and needed, and needed, and needed, and needed, and needed, and needed like pure everything, and it was so much, and so terrifying, and it hurt.  
  
Hurt in ways, nothing ever should.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because a shadowed figure was standing in the doorway, and his ruby eyes were brimming with tears and he didn't understand why.  
  
Why?  
  
Because two souls snared together share everything.  
  
From pain to pleasure.  
  
From tears to smiles.  
  
From everything to nothing to everything again.  
  
Sorry.  
  
And I held on tighter than before, and I told him.  
  
Choked out non-sensible words and confused thought lings and his eyes widened and his gaze darted from me to her.  
  
Sorry.   
  
Because the Great Game King, the Pharaoh, the child prodigy, my Yami, he crept towards the bed with nervous footsteps and he stopped, and though his eyes were only for her, I saw it too.  
  
He was pleading.  
  
Begging.  
  
Alone, and lonely, and needing, and scared, and sad, and knowing only one thing.  
  
As a mad man that finds a source for his obsession.  
  
A wild man that sees peace.  
  
Or a lusting man that can find no end to his hunger.  
  
It was perfect and precious and everything that could soothe everything.  
  
Everything that he needed, that no one should ever be able to take away from him.  
  
That no one should ever even think of taking away from him.  
  
It was his, and his.  
  
And his alone.  
  
But it was unreachable, Like Lancelot's Holy Grail.  
  
And there were no thoughts.  
  
No rules.  
  
No morals.  
  
There was simply that one thing.  
  
Something untouchable, but touchable.  
  
Something he couldn't comprehend not being without.  
  
Something that ruled him as nothing had before.  
  
There was no before or after.  
  
Nothing but this...  
  
This thing he had to have.  
  
This person that he had loved, and loved, and...he had never loved anyone before her.  
  
He had never bared his soul to anyone before she came, never shared more than his body in bed, let alone his heart and soul.  
  
This person who knew him so well, every weakness, and fear and doubt, that remembered everything that he could not.  
  
How could she leave him?  
  
Didn't she know?  
  
He had to have her.  
  
Absolutely had to have.  
  
There he stood, eyes bright with tears, pearly teeth worrying rose lips, and a stance that wept of misery.  
  
He sat on the bed and crawled over and his thoughts were completely on this one thing.  
  
This one person.  
  
That threatened to leave him now, now that she was finally within his grasp.  
  
He couldn't have it.  
  
Wouldn't have it.  
  
No. No. No. No.   
  
No.  
  
He stopped inches away and gazed at them.  
  
There she sat, calm, and cold, and callous.  
  
She was watching him, eyes sharp, gaze blank, body impassive as his light, his aibou, his precious, precious, wonderful, perfect, beautiful, impossible son buried his face in her shoulder and wept.  
  
His arms were tight around her shoulders, his body shook with the force of his sobs, and his voice was strained as he choked out apologies and pleadings and cried, and cried, and cried, and moaned.  
  
Moaned, and whimpered, and sniffled.  
  
He looked from them, back and forth and back.  
  
Ra.  
  
"Please.".  
  
She had said something...  
  
One word.  
  
Singular, devoid of emotion, as sensitive as a brick.  
  
His gaze drifted from Yugi to her again.  
  
She was the woman he had married.  
  
She was nowhere close to the woman he had married.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be attracted to the kind of person she had become.  
  
He wasn't.  
  
But he was.  
  
He was.  
  
He...  
  
She wanted him to pick Yugi up, to pull him away, to stifle his tears and make him understand that she was leaving.  
  
How could he do that?  
  
How?  
  
He couldn't.  
  
He just...couldn't.  
  
No.  
  
She couldn't expect him to.  
  
Couldn't expect him to let go.  
  
He had once and he was still facing the consequences of that action.  
  
Still facing the empty gaze, the stiffening shoulders when the thoughtless touch came, the lack of life in a person who had been filled with it.  
  
He was sorry.  
  
All the time.  
  
So sorry.  
  
But he couldn't.  
  
He lowered his eyes and stared down at the bedspread it was light blue and there were yellow stars dancing across it.  
  
It was so childish.  
  
Like nothing he would have slept on in Egypt.  
  
Cheap, and simple, and made of cotton of all things.  
  
Soft and innocent and light.  
  
It was funny-looking.  
  
It was beautiful.  
  
Like his son.  
  
Yugi had stopped sobbing, but there were still quiet pain-filled sniffles, and though he knew he shouldn't be.  
  
He was thankful.  
  
For the little noise.  
  
For the childlike noise that made his heart hurt, and his chest constrict, and his mind shiver.  
  
He was thankful.  
  
Because it stopped that quiet death from entering the room and pushing him to do something he couldn't.  
  
He raised his eyes and looked on.  
  
Her head was bent slightly and she was staring down at Yugi.  
  
He hadn't moved an inch and looking on it, he seemed much younger than his fifteen years.  
  
Smaller, shyer, a tiny wisp of a four year old boy who had refused to talk, but smiled so much that there was no doubt that he was happy.  
  
Happier than he ever thought anyone could be.  
  
And now...  
  
Now he lay miserable.  
  
And his wife, who had been the most fascinating creature he had ever met, now was...  
  
Ra.  
  
Her face was still impassive and she wasn't disturbed by the fact that the boy whom she had birthed, and raised, and loved, was so sad.  
  
Could he expect her to be?  
  
Expect her to care?  
  
To be disturbed?  
  
It worried him.  
  
Scared him.  
  
He knew...he knew she didn't like him.  
  
Let alone love, he could see it.  
  
Feel it.  
  
It was difficult.  
  
It was what he had put her through.  
  
And it was hell.  
  
All the time.  
  
But Yugi...  
  
She...  
  
She treated Yugi, the same way she treated him.  
  
She hated to be in a room with him.  
  
Hated to be touched by him.  
  
And hated the fact she was still here with two of the men she never wanted to see again.  
  
But how could you call it hate?  
  
She felt nothing.  
  
Did nothing.  
  
Merely accepted and endured it.  
  
But Yugi, with his cheerful attitude, and bright eyes, and sweet smile he...loved her.  
  
And it was hell for him too.  
  
Cause he crept into her room at night, and dumped his small body in her bed, and tried his very hardest to make her love him again.  
  
Make her smile at him, if just once.  
  
Make her smile and laugh and hug him, as he wanted now more than anything.  
  
And she...  
  
She was his mother.  
  
But she had no smiles hidden away for him.  
  
No kind words to soothe the ache in his soul.  
  
And no touch to smooth away wind-blown bangs, and moon-kissed skin.  
  
If she didn't have any of these things for herself, how could he expect her to have them for Yugi?  
  
Or...  
  
For him.  
  
No.  
  
He raised his eyes and crept towards them.  
  
Towards his wife and their child.  
  
He tried to force strength into his words, but he couldn't and his voice was cracked and tired.  
  
"I can't".  
  
Something indescribable flew across her face, and she looked away from him.  
  
Her shoulders stiffened, and a small, soft, pain filled sound escaped from her.  
  
  
  
His heart broke, shattered.  
  
Into pieces he was sure would never be recovered.  
  
For once again he had hurt her.  
  
And even now, knowing that it hurt her so, knowing that the road they were walking down wouldn't lead them anywhere but deeper into this abyss, he wouldn't let her leave.  
  
Not now, or ever.  
  
He cried.  
  
Let the tears fall, and his tough demeanor blow away, and the whole world pass.  
  
He cried and took her hand in his, whispering words in Egyptian.  
  
The words that he had loved to say so much back then.  
  
The words that he had forgotten to say now.  
  
The words that had left him like this.  
  
Left them all like this.  
  
He cried and Yugi cried, and he imagined.  
  
They imagined.  
  
She was crying too.  
  
And it was the second time since getting the puzzle that I had wished I didn't share so much with Yami.  
  
Wish that I wasn't the other piece to the union that called for perfect equality.  
  
Because I should have been oblivious, ignorant to all that went on between them.  
  
They were once lovers to each other, neither to me, nor I to them, and there were things that barricaded each from the other, things that I didn't...want to know.  
  
Not so clearly.  
  
But I knew.  
  
I knew all of it, everything.  
  
...  
  
I should have been able to cry in peace, and stew in my own misery by myself, but no.  
  
I wasn't.  
  
I had to suffer under my Father's as well.  
  
I felt Yami's thoughts as if they were my own, felt his feelings as if they were borne in my own heart, and even saw myself looking through his eyes to look upon me and her.  
  
It scared me.  
  
We've never, ever been so close as that moment.  
  
Never been so bonded.  
  
I'm still not sure if I liked it.  
  
Still not sure about what it was that shimmered just beneath the surface of myself when I think upon it.  
  
I didn't understand.  
  
I knew what had happened, certainly felt it, but...  
  
I didn't understand.  
  
I just held onto her for dear life and prayed to every single God I knew that we would be all right.  
  
...  
  
We fell asleep that way.  
  
All three of us.  
  
In that tiny little bed with sky-blue star covers as our earth, bathed in pale blue moonlight with tears shimmering on our faces and a whole world at our fingertips, a whole world we didn't know what to do with.   
  
Yami with his arms round her stomach holding her so tight that I knew it must hurt her, his face buried in her soft pretty hair, and one leg draped over her in a move so possessive I almost could have laughed.  
  
If not for the fact that I was still crying.  
  
And me...  
  
Me with my arms tight around her neck, embracing her gently, and my face resting on her chest, listening, feeling her heartbeat, and my toes brushing her own, my warmth seeping into her cold.  
  
And Gia.  
  
She lay in that bed with us, and her blue eyes were closed and her lips were closed and she seemed too still and cold, and all wrong for both of us.  
  
Something so broken and imperfect that we really should have discarded her without a second thought.  
  
But we didn't.  
  
Why?  
  
Cause she's absolutely, positively, perfect.  
  
Like an angel, or a goddess, something so impossibly heavenly.  
  
Real and unreal and...  
  
And no matter how wrong or right it is, in her I've found something so beautiful that I'd be a fool to give it up.   
  
It hurts now.  
  
Yes.  
  
It hurts my heart, and mind, and soul.  
  
Yes.  
  
It's horrible, and wrong, and stupid, and confusing.  
  
Yes.  
  
All of those things.  
  
But when we're together.  
  
Or even if it's just the two of us.  
  
I find her like the sun in the sky, and that one flower on the ground, and even the rain.  
  
It's odd, and confusing, but...  
  
I like her.  
  
She fascinates me and there's an undeniable happiness that comes whenever I'm near her.  
  
Even if she is...  
  
Something that's supposedly so damned.  
  
  
  
When he and I awoke in the morning, she was gone.  
  
And I remember my heart hurt and I couldn't look at him, and he couldn't look at me.  
  
And we went down the stairs, not looking, not touching, not together in our minds.  
  
But alone.  
  
Like I'd never have hoped would ever happen.  
  
And I could practically feel Grandpa's glee, hear his happy words of how he had warned me and I hadn't listened.  
  
No.  
  
I hadn't.  
  
And I hated myself for it.  
  
But not for his reasons.  
  
For my own.  
  
I went to the kitchen because I knew he'd make me go to school.  
  
Make me get on with my life and live it, but he didn't know.  
  
How could he?  
  
My life was over.  
  
The world had ended in the middle of the night and me and Yami were the only ones who witnessed it.  
  
I walked into the kitchen and...  
  
It was the same.  
  
Everything looked the same.  
  
Everything.  
  
But then my eyes caught onto something and I stopped in shock, and...  
  
There she was.  
  
Living and breathing and so alive that it seemed a miracle.  
  
Something that everyone should look upon and revere.  
  
She was still silent, and still cold, but...  
  
She was...  
  
Making...breakfast.  
  
And I swear for a second I thought I was asleep, dreaming, but she turned around and looked at me.  
  
At him.  
  
And there was...life, in her eyes.  
  
And I smiled.  
  
And I didn't mean to.  
  
I mean I honestly did, but...  
  
I crossed the room slowly and smiled at her and embraced her, and for once her shoulders didn't stiffen and she didn't try to pull away from me.  
  
And I was soothed.  
  
I was almost unconscious with the waves of peace and comfort that pleasured me when I held her.  
  
I am sorry.  
  
So sorry.  
  
Life's a bitch and things don't ever work out as they should, but...  
  
She stayed.  
  
I don't know why, and I think about it all the time.  
  
But she did.  
  
So...she had hope.  
  
She must have.  
  
Right?  
  
But still.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because sometimes I'm afraid.  
  
When I'm alone and cold and I can't reach for her for comfort, I think.   
  
Once again, I think I stole her chance at peace.  
  
And as damned as it is, I still can't let go, and she's soft and warm and she smells like...rain.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because I know it's all my fault.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because anyone that expects me to let go now, doesn't know the heights of my desperation or my love, or Yami's for that matter. She's all we both ever needed and wanted and she's soft and warm and sadly smiling and Yami...is who he is. My Dad, my darkness, my partner. And honestly, just to be honest.  
  
Just to tell the truth.  
  
We don't really care whose bodies fall where as long as we're all together.  
  
...  
  
Did you ever think such blasphemy could spout from such innocent a mind?  
  
Sorry.  
  
  
  
Cause it must still be hell for everyone involved. To see me acting like this, doing these things, saying these words, smiling this way.   
  
But what can they expect?  
  
Their normal isn't my normal, my normal is her hand intertwined in mine, his body warm next to mine and the undeniable looks on their faces when they embrace.  
  
And their normal...is growing up and getting serious and dying.  
  
And I could never...  
  
No.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because we belong together.  
  
Like everything else that makes sense in this world.  
  
We belong together.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Because I will never, ever, ever, put them first ever again, and I suspect...they know.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Cause I won't say no.  
  
Sorry.  
  
Cause I know that's all everyone really want.  
  
Pray.  
  
Cause innocence has signed a deal with the devil, and the devil has soft fingers, and wild eyes and a laugh that stretches past worlds and time.  
  
And innocence loves that.  
  
Pray.  
  
Cause that's what I do every day, every night, all the time.  
  
For her.  
  
For me.  
  
For him.  
  
Pray.  
  
Cause I like it, the smallest signs that you care mean so very much and does it really surprise you when I latch onto you and tell you about my day, my life, but don't really get into it?  
  
Pray.  
  
Cause I'm watching, for the smallest flicker in your eyes, the tilt of your head, the subtle change of the lines near your mouth, the smile that you hide, the laugh that leaves but never arrives and the touch that always seems to fascinate and scare you.  
  
But you don't have to be afraid of touch ever again.  
  
Cause no one's ever going to hurt you again.  
  
I promise.  
  
In fact I'll make sure of it.  
  
Pray.  
  
Cause as I rush forward and give you a bear hug and breath in the scent of rain and smile and feel you as destructible and indestructible as you are, I'm doing the only thing that makes sense to me.  
  
Touching you.  
  
Mommy.  
  
Holding you.  
  
Mommy.  
  
Caring for you.  
  
Mommy.  
  
Dream.  
  
That's what I'm doing when I crawl closer, and closer in the bed, till I'm touching you, and you're touching me, and we're together.  
  
Together as only few know.  
  
Together as only few get.  
  
Dream.  
  
That's what I'm doing when I lift my head and look down at you one more time, just to be sure, of what I'm not, and I smile, smile small and sad, just like you.  
  
Dream.  
  
  
  
That's what I'm doing when I lean down and my lips touch your forehead and I kiss you goodnight.  
  
Dream.  
  
That's what I'm doing when I wrap my arms around your body and lay my head down on your shoulders and whisper words that no one hears but me.  
  
Dream.  
  
And that's what I'm doing when he shifts. He shifts and pulls closer to me, to us, and his arms are so tight around my waist and his breath is tickling my ear and your heart beats so steady. And we're all going to be fine. Cause we're together.   
  
Dream.  
  
Dream and dream and dream and dream and dream.   
  
That's what I do all the time, whether I'm awake or asleep, I dream.  
  
I dream of things that people have never imagined, of things people would think would never cross my innocent little thoughts. I dream of worlds where this happens all the time and everyone smiles at us as we walk down the street. Where she smiles like the sun and he flashes like thunder and lightning and they're together and they love me like the night loves the stars and I like the light loves the darkness. Where she and Yami are treated like the gods they are, and I like the prince I once was. I dream of it being sunny and raining at the same time, of the sun and the moon sharing the sky and dancing around each other. I dream of monsters and angels and sweet-faced demons. I dream of heaven and the stars and stories and games.  
  
I dream.  
  
Like a mad child.  
  
Like a wild adult.  
  
Like darkness's wish.  
  
And light's hope.  
  
I dream.  
  
Oh how I dream.  
  
Like tear tinted raindrops.  
  
Dripping and dropping and dropping my eternity all over this sleepy city.  
  
  
  
It's raining today, you know.  
  
Bluish-clear, wet, wet, water falling, and falling, and falling, and falling together in one long cold stream from the heavens.  
  
It's raining today.  
  
But...  
  
It was thundering yesterday.  
  
Long jagged bolts lighting the sky and roaring across it, and teasing the darkness with such a wild and care-free flashes.  
  
It was thundering yesterday, when she came to my school.  
  
Whew! That took a lot of effort...and time...and energy...and...I want candy. (Looks up and notices all the odd looks she's getting). What?! You'd want candy too if you wrote something like this in three days. Speaking of which please review. If you do I'll love you forever, not to mention I always respond to my reviews. Always...even if it does take me awhile. It's just that I may be busy with some other stuff or I may be working very hard on getting another story out and not want to stop the flow of imagination. And I swear I shall respond to the reviews on my new stories soon. And I'm working on the second chapters to all of them so keep your eyes open, maybe in a day or two...yeah. Um...I think that's it. Bye.  
  
Peace out. Love always. Epiphany Under Moonlight 


	2. Responses

To lily22-  
  
I love you.  
  
No one has ever given me fifty pounds of candy before.   
  
Although I think that's because they were trying to protect themselves and society.   
  
Imagine the damage I could do on a sugar high like that, wow fifty pounds. Starts to giggle uncontrollably, not noticing as even the Yami's step back and try to shield their hikari's when they think of that horror, notices the looks she's getting and snaps back to some semblance of sanity. "Now, now guys it'll take me some time to eat all that candy, while I'm busy doing that you can go try to hide some of the women and children. But not all of them, kay?" Yami's nod before diving into a dark corner, with hikaris.   
  
Huh... Ahum...thank you. I am awesome! "Does happy dance".   
  
Bakura pips up from said dark corner, "She said your work was awesome, not you." Turns and looks into corner, "You know Bakura I haven't written a fic where you're the main character yet. Don't force me to write one, because I will shove you deeper into hell than everyone else. And I don't post my most horrible fics, so you won't even know what's in store for you until it's too late." Watches as Bakura cowers, turns back to reviewer with a big scary smile on her face.   
  
Thank you for reviewing my work, I'm so glad you liked it.   
  
What did Yugi do?   
  
He betrayed his Mommy, who used to love him like the sun but doesn't anymore because of what he did.   
  
One day I swear I'll write a fic explaining, just what he did, and who else was involved.  
  
And one day, I swear I'll stop talking like a psychopath who's on medication.  
  
Well, now that Gia doesn't care about him anymore, she doesn't hate him mind you; she just doesn't care about him or Yami anymore. They could fall off the proverbial bridge and she wouldn't bat an eyelash, well she might, but that would be about it. Well now that Yugi knows that she really was, is his mother and Yami is, was his Father, he loves her and him and even calls her "Mommy", which is awkward for everyone else, cause she is a vampire, even though no one except a few very choice group of people who were also living in ancient Egypt and a few who weren't know about that, and she's only a year older than him physically in the human sense, and an inch taller.   
  
So it must look more like they're lovers to everyone else, he holds her hand, kisses her on the cheek, and pretty much follows her around everywhere she goes, to further confuse everyone, he has no hang ups on calling her "Mommy" in a normal tone or louder in public.  
  
Which is just plain fun to write.  
  
Yami is still Yami except on occasion where he's "Daddy", I figure when we were younger touch was everything when it came to our parents so Yami, and Yugi do share a bed. Sometimes they kiss (ignores looks, oh you all know what I mean), hug, hold hands, and just generally act comfortable in ways many males simply cannot these days without being called gay or being gay.  
  
Alas. They're not. This also comes into some confusion on whether Yugi and Yami are lovers; they're not, at least not in my stories. Although I don't mind at all stories that involve yaoi or...the other one. Geez that sounds sad. The other one.  
  
Later on when Gia starts giving in to him more, into them more, she'll share the same bed.  
  
Which she does in this fic.  
  
Ignores looks.  
  
Yugi remembers what Egyptian life was like, which is when this whole story pretty much started, and he misses her, and...he loves her. In pretty much the same way a small child loves their parents.   
  
The sun just doesn't shine without them, and in a sense you can't get enough of them physically or mentally, which might be mistaken for eroticism.   
  
It isn't.   
  
Or maybe it is...   
  
Hmmm.  
  
Anyway its soo not my fault that all three of them are anatomically correct.   
  
Um...Of course the emotions between them conflict and stuff happens.   
  
But Yugi still loves her, frighteningly so, and Yami still loves her, terrifyingly so, and she still isn't sure what she's going to do about the both of them.   
  
Now that I've sorta told you all of it, may I ask what your idea was? Please, I truly am curious. It'd be interesting to see what you came up with, considering it was a little on the vague side.   
  
Thank you for complimenting the originality. I don't like the thought of writing different stories the same way everyone else writes them. I try to come up with new ideas and formats. I like the way I wrote it too, it's really the only ficcie I have that's from Yugi's P.O.V.   
  
Although there is one more coming up very soon, that's going to be a real chappie fics. I plan on including as many people as possible in it, maybe even Pegasus. Heh, heh, heh. Of course as usual no one's really going to be happy in this one either.   
  
Except Yugi and Yami they're peachy-keen as long as Gia's around, hell I might even make her happy in this one. And I can guarantee I'll have some disturbing P.O.V.'s from everyone in it. Heh, heh, heh. I just have to get it from Mallory (dear friend of mine) who is hoarding it.   
  
"Rain" is going to be a three shot written in basically the same format with different memories and emotions. I'm working on the second chapter now.   
  
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful."   
  
Awww. See guys' lily22 knows how to make a person blush. Hears a snort from dark corner, "Bakura if that's you I swear I'm putting you in a dress." strange silence fills the air. "Yeah, thought so." I can't believe how long it is either, I really planned on maybe a seven page fic but then more and more ideas kept coming from the inspiration muse and slowly it evolved in thirty eight pages.   
  
Man. I'm proud of myself.   
  
Thirty eight pages, you know that's never going to happen again. Except...maybe in this fic.   
  
Happily bows down to applause. 


End file.
